She’d looked hot, too. Funky high-heeled shoes with a little bow at each ankle, pink shorts, sleeveless lace top. That hair hanging loose, swaying every time she moved or laughed.
His growing obsession with her was Grey’s fault, dammit. Clearly the promise Trip had made not to touch her had only made him want her more, like the chocolate cake women craved when forced to diet. He just needed a bite to be satisfied, then he could get on with his life.
Hell, if he couldn’t have Kelsey, maybe he could find a substitute for the night. Someone to distract him from all the memories now swarming his brain. Someone who wanted from him only what he wanted from her: a good-time girl who wasn’t searching for a relationship.
He tipped back a swig of his beer and turned to scan the crowd. Ten minutes—and a second bottle of beer—later, he spotted a cute blonde near the front window.
She didn’t look familiar, which surprised him. She must not have been from Sterling Canyon, because he’d have noticed her before. He pushed off the bar and sauntered over to her and her friend, adjusting his Stetson and pasting a smile on his face.
“Good evening, ladies.” He stood beside the blonde.
She smiled at him, jutting one hip outward. “Hey, handsome.”
Bingo.
“You having a good time tonight?” he asked, nodding politely at her friend before returning his attention to her.
“It’s getting better.” She pushed a section of hair behind her ear and held out her hand. “I’m Susie. This is Beth.”
“Nice to meet you. I’m Trip.” He took a swig of beer. “You mustn’t be from around here, ’cause I’m sure I’d have noticed you if you were.”
“Oh, no. I’m from here, I just haven’t spent much time in bars.” She sipped her drink.
“Don’t like the crowds?”
Susie glanced at Beth and then laughed. “I love crowds, but I only turned twenty-one last month.”
Twenty-one. Legal. But eleven years his junior. Was that too young? Jesus, even having that damn thought depressed him a little. Made him feel old standing there in the bar—alone. He shoved aside the unwelcome realization. “Ah. That explains it.”
Through the window, he caught sight of another blonde tottering along the sidewalk under the streetlights—a very familiar blonde. What the hell is she doing walking alone at night?
“Excuse me a minute, I need to check on someone.” He hurried away without thinking about it and dashed onto the sidewalk. “Kelsey? What are you doing?”
She turned, her eyebrows rising, appearing to wobble a bit on those shoes. “Oh, it’s you.”
“Why are you stumbling through town alone in the dark?” Trip felt himself frowning. “Not too smart.”
“I’m fine.” She waved her arms at him, all flopsy. “This is my town. I’m perfectly safe. I always walk to and from my sister’s house.”
“I can’t believe she and Bill let you leave like this.” Trip gestured up and down with his hand, concern warring with arousal.
“Let me?” Kelsey made a phfft sound. He hid a smile at her drunken behavior. Alcohol robbed her banter of its typical sarcasm, replacing it with bravado. “I wanted to walk home and so I did.”
“Well, how about you let me see you the rest of the way home?” He realized he was still holding the beer in his hand, so he chugged it and tossed it in a nearby garbage can. “Come on. Just how many glasses of champagne did you drink?”
Kelsey shrugged. “It’s my birthday. I celebrated!”
“For someone who’s celebrating, you don’t look too happy right now.” He grabbed her by the elbow to prevent her from falling over. As soon as he touched her, he felt that connection everywhere. “Which way?”
She pointed to the right then yanked her arm away and ran a hand through her loopy curls. “Happy? Ha! Happy . . . I’m flippin’ thirty-one. Thirty-one! That’s like . . . like seventy in guy years. Thirty-one, alone on a Saturday, and . . . and my feet are killing me.”
He heard a little squeak of exasperation. Before he said anything, she briefly covered her face with her hands and shook her head. “Oh, God. I must be drunk or I’d never give you any ammo to use against me later. Just pretend I didn’t say anything. You never saw me.”
She took two steps, twisted her ankle, then bent over with a frustrated groan to unbuckle her shoes. Trip enjoyed the nice view of her ass in those shorts until she kicked off her shoes and stood up.